


Rose Petals

by em_gray



Series: AU fic challenge [3]
Category: The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue Series - Mackenzi Lee
Genre: (just a little), Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Angst, Attempted Murder, Beauty and the Beast AU, Body Horror, Fairy Tale Curses, Fluff, Gun Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Not Really Character Death, Poisoning, Set in the 1700s, Yeah you read that right, i guess??, just take it, this one went COMPLETELY off the rails
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:27:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22892530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/em_gray/pseuds/em_gray
Summary: Prince Henry Montague was cursed to remain a beast until someone would truly love him. Percy Newton is a musician who really didn't ask to be caught up in any of this.
Relationships: Henry "Monty" Montague/Percy Newton
Series: AU fic challenge [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1640491
Comments: 12
Kudos: 29
Collections: TGGTVAV AU Challenge Fics





	Rose Petals

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pinstripedJackalope](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinstripedJackalope/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Soul Song](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22840951) by [pinstripedJackalope](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinstripedJackalope/pseuds/pinstripedJackalope). 



> hi I'm not even going to MENTION worth count limit
> 
> Third AU in the challenge au chain! I went with the (magic) music theme from Soul Song again (I am sorry) and wrote uh... this thing
> 
> so uhh. started writing it. had a breakdown. bon appétit

Once upon a time, in a distant kingdom, a young Prince lived. His name was Henry Montague. His favorite occupations were drinking, sleeping around, and embarrassing the royal family. A true disgrace to the crown and to the noble King Henri. Not to mention that he was the eldest, and therefore the future King.

On the Prince’s eighteenth birthday, a lively party was hosted, and everyone notable from miles and miles around was invited. They say that the finest tailors didn’t leave their workshops for weeks on end to perfect the royal family’s outfits for the night, that the finest bakers in the kingdom did nothing but bake for a month, and that the finest florists started growing the flowers for the occasion years in advance. It would be the biggest celebration for years to come, painting an honorable picture of the kingdom and its leaders.

The Prince, however, couldn’t seem to care for all the effort being put forward for him. It is said that while the orchestra was playing a specially composed piece in his honor, the Crown Prince took a bottle of wine off a serving tray and simply walked away.

While the Prince was outside getting drunk in the gardens, he ran into an elderly lady. She asked for entrance to the palace, perhaps something to eat, a place to stay. She was very poor, so the only thing she could offer in return was a red rose.

The Prince laughed in her face.

Now, bad luck would have it that this nice elderly lady would turn out to be a witch. She cursed the Prince for his bad manners. She made his bones break and pop as they grew, his skin stretch and roughen, then cover in thick fur. His teeth turned into fangs, his hands into claws as they digged into the ground. His eyes, run-through with blood boiling, yellowed as his pupils slit. His spine snapped and repaired itself endlessly, reforming, lengthening, bowing under the weight of the flesh, as the former Prince collapsed in the dirt, screaming with a voice that lacked all humanity.

They say he became a monster that night, an animal, a  _ beast _ . The witch had taken all the ugliness from inside and put it on full display. As he writhed in the sand, she threw the rose in front of him. She told him that only one thing could break the curse: if someone who truly,  _ truly _ loved him would gift him with a song after an act of selflessness, he would return to normal and a life would be saved. But it had to happen before this rose lost its final petal. When it did, the Prince would remain a beast forever.

When his family found out, they were devastated. Embarrassed by the thing his son had become, the King banished him to a forgotten castle at the edge of the kingdom, where the Prince was to stay for as long as this curse lasted. In accordance with the witch’ words, musicians were sent from far and wide to perform to the Prince, hoping any of them could break the curse. But most could hardly look at him, or finish their song before fleeing the cursed place.

That is where the Prince-Beast remains to this day. They say he’s broken every mirror, and that of late he refuses to let the musicians in. No one knows how many petals the rose has lost, but years have gone by and some even whisper the Prince is already cursed forever.

That’s the story that goes around, anyway. To me, it all sounds a bit excessive. I mean, a beast?  _ Curses _ ? The Prince probably just embarrassed his family so badly they locked him up somewhere, so the throne could be passed onto the youngest son. Let’s be real.

That doesn’t mean my week is ruined any less, though.

Ugh. I’ve been traveling for three days now. They gave me a horse and a carriage for the trip, but while I was sleeping during the first night, someone stole the horse, so I carried on by foot with only my fiddle. I passed ‘painful legs’ by about a day ago, and by now I genuinely can’t feel them anymore. I’m fully convinced I would have dropped dead if I wasn’t able to hitch the occasional ride. Still, I’ve already classified the week as  _ the absolute worst of my life _ , and I haven’t even reached the castle yet.

Ugh.

I almost had it all. A place to stay, to call home. A roof over my head, certain meals, even friends. I’d really started to feel at home at the royal palace. But alas, my body betrayed me, and I was not-so-kindly requested to leave.

I suppose I should be glad they didn’t kill me.

By nightfall, the castle appears on the horizon, and I’m not sure how happy I am about that. There’ll be no more nights by the roadside, but I will have to face the beast.

I smile dryly at my own joke. I wonder how bad this Prince actually is, if that’s what they call him.

The drawbridge is down when I walk over. I knock on the giant doors, get no response, then enter. I’m tired, and starving, and while this place is giving me the creeps, the former two outweigh my fear. I pass over the abandoned and overgrown courtyard, enter another door, then find myself in a throne room. Once again: abandoned. I start to wonder if this Prince actually exists.

I’ve searched for another hour when my feet can’t carry me anymore. I find a bedroom that isn’t covered in cobwebs, with a comfortable looking bed, and give into the fatigue. I stumble toward it, let myself fall down, fiddle beside me, and fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.

Yellow sunlight is pouring through the windows and gently poking against my shut eyelids by the time I drift to consciousness again. Every bone in my body hurts when I stir. It’s bearable when I don’t move, though, so I lie perfectly still and am about to let myself drift back into pleasant oblivion, when a strange feeling creeps up on me.

The feeling of not being alone.

I lift my head with great effort and look around. Then I see him: seated on a chair next to the fireplace, head resting on one clawed hand.

I let out a sound of horror. I jump back on the bed, pushing myself against the wall behind the headboard of the bed, trying to get as far away from  _ that thing _ as possible. Which is, in this case, not nearly far enough.

“Good morning,” he says, though ‘says’ is a poor description. Even though he sounds bored, his voice is a growl. His fangs seem to be in the way when he speaks, overlapping his bottom lip. His eyes remind me of a wolf’s, or a lion’s. Even when sitting down, he’s well over seven feet tall and his shoulders must be three feet wide. He’s wearing a loose shirt and trousers, and every inch of his body is covered in hair. Horns originate in the side of his head and trail down his neck. He’s tapping the fingers of one claw lazily on the armrest of his chair, claws that look like they could snap my neck with a twitch.

_ Oh. God. _

_ He’s actually a beast. _

He’s been watching me with squinted eyes as I gasp for breath, still trying to get away. My eyes shoot to the door, and I wonder if I could make it before he notices what I’m trying to do.

“You can run, you know,” he says dryly. “I didn’t invite you here, anyway.”

_ Oh, nevermind, he’s already onto me. _ I see my fiddle case beside me on the bed and grab it, clutching it in my arms. To protect it or to use it as protection, I have no idea. I’m more terrified than I’ve ever been in my life.

The beast watches me for another thirty seconds before he sighs. “Did my father send you?”

It takes me a minute of gasping for breath and stuttering before I can reply with a simple “Yes”. Then I realize that this  _ is _ the Prince I’m talking to. “M-my lord.”

He gives me a funny look, then stands up. Forget what I said earlier, he’s  _ definitely at least ten feet standing up _ . I let out a scared noise and scramble back a little further.

“For God’s sake,” he says, and now he’s no longer sounding calm, his voice is terrifying. “I’ve told him a million times to just  _ leave me alone already _ .”

I hide behind my fiddle, whimpering.

I hear a chuckle. An inhumane one, yes, but a chuckle. “I told him about the curse a million times but he just  _ doesn’t get it _ . It’s not going to be some random musician off the street who can break it. If it can be broken at all.”

I blink. “Then why does he keep sending musicians over?”

He shrugs. “To keep up appearances, I suppose. And to get on my nerves.”

“I can leave.” My voice is high-pitched.

He looks me up and down a few times, intent yellow eyes prying into mine. “Why did he send  _ you _ , specifically, over, though?”

I swallow. I was hoping this would never come up, especially not at a time I’m so utterly terrified as this one. “I…” I stammer. I take a deep breath, then scoff. “They wanted rid of me.”

I could be imagining it, but I believe some softness finds its way into the Prince’s eyes. “And why’s that?”

I bite my lip.  _ What’s he going to do to me when he knows? _ Suddenly I’m very eager to be kicked out. Anything to get out of here, out of sight, out of reach.

Then I do something, and I can’t for the life of me understand why. I lift my chin, lower the fiddle case and look him in the eye. “W-with all due respect, your highness, but that is none of your business.”

His eyes bulge out, and for a moment, I genuinely believe he’s going to kill me. Then he burst out laughing.

The sound fills up the room, loud and animal-like, and I’m positively at a loss of what to do. Somehow, I feel a bit more at ease. I put the fiddle case down.

The Prince wipes away some tears that have welled up in his eyes. When he comes to himself, he says: “You know, you’re actually the first person apart from my family who’s said something even remotely defiant to me since this whole mess started.”

I don’t know what to say.

He still chuckles for a bit. “All right, you humored me. I forgive you.”

“Forgive me? For what?”

There’s an estimating look in his eyes. “It’s not very polite to let yourself in, not greet the host and instead just go to sleep in his bed, you know.”

My eyes widen and I feel my cheeks flare. “I’m sorry,” I stutter, “I didn’t kn- You know what? I looked for you for over an hour last night. I’d already assumed you didn’t exist. So I’m not actually that sorry.”

“Well, it’s not my fault this castle is so damn big.” He’s got his head tilted, something resembling an amused smile on his lips. “What’s your name, darling?”

“Percy, sir. Percy Newton.”

“Percy Newton. When’s the last time you ate?”

As if on command, my stomach grumbles. “...Two days ago?”

He sighs, and stands up. “All right. Meals around here aren’t exactly five stars since I scared off the cooks, but there’s gotta be something lying around.” Halfway toward the door, he halts. “Oh, and call me Monty.”

Over breakfast, the Prince asks where I’m from, and how I wound up at his father’s castle. I tell him I’m a travelling musician, or at least, I used to be, before I got a spot in the royal orchestra.

“It was nice,” I say, “to have a place to stay.”

The Prince hums. “And yet here you are.”

I sigh deeply, then realize that might’ve been a little disrespectful. I’m still struggling for words to right my wrong, when I’m interrupted.

“I wouldn’t want to be here either. Well, I don’t mind, personally, but I wouldn’t want to be here with me.”

“What do you mean? ...Sir?”

He sits up and stretches his arms, gesturing around. I flinch - I do every time - but try to hide it. “See this godforsaken ruin? With holes in the roof and birds nestling in every other room and covered in plants? All this…” He leans back and downs a glass. “...is still better than being at my father’s castle.”

I still don’t understand what he means. I want to ask more questions, about what his life has been like, if he really got cursed by a witch, if the stories are true. But while my beating heart has eased, I still don’t dare to turn my back for fear he might change his mind and attack me. So asking possibly sensitive questions seems to be a bad idea.

After breakfast, I do what I came here to do: I take out my fiddle and play him a song. I’m still a little scared so the first notes are shaky, but as I go on, I lose myself in the music. I don’t realize I’ve closed my eyes until the final tone dies away and I lower my bow. For a moment, I panic, but the Prince hasn’t moved from his seat and is just watching me. When I’m done, he demonstratively looks at himself and says: “Well. That didn’t work. Surprise, surprise. You’re free to return to my father’s castle, Mr Newton.”

I’m not sure what I’d expected. I wasn’t hoping my music could break the curse - let’s be realistic - but simply being told I can leave at this point feels like an anticlimax.

_ Go where _ , a voice in my head asks.  _ You can’t go back. _

I’m caught in dilemma, instrument still in my hands. They won’t take me back at the castle, but the thought of another life traveling from village to village, hoping I’ll make enough to come by, terrifies me. A rock and a hard place, that’s what I’m stuck between.

“What’s the matter?” the Prince asks after a while.

“I can’t go back,” I say slowly. “I… have no place to go.”

I’m not looking up. I feel his eyes burning. “What, they wanted rid of you… permanently?” he asks.

“They didn’t say as much.”

“Hm. What about parents? Family you can stay with? Friends?”

I shake my head. There’s a long silence.

“...Look,” he finally says, and I’m taken aback by how soft he sounds. “The castle’s big enough. You can… stay, if you’d like, until you find a solution. You won’t even have to see me.” He stands up, that softness disappearing. “But you’re not sleeping in my room again. Get your own. There’s, like, a hundred in this place.”

I stare at him, incredulous. I must’ve misheard him. Did the Prince - this  _ beast _ \- just actually offer me a place to stay? “I couldn’t,” I say, though I would very much like to. Not that I’m very eager to stay in this ruin, specifically, with  _ him _ , but it beats sleeping by the roadside.

“Sure you can.” He starts walking away. “Just don’t get in my way.”

I jump, back on my feet. “Th-thank you, my lord!” I call after him.

“It’s Monty,” he calls back, before leaving.

I don’t see a lot of him those first few weeks, and for now, that feels like the safest option. I spend most of my time roaming the castle. It  _ is _ huge, and before the Prince - Monty - moved in here, it must’ve been abandoned for at least a hundred years. The layer of dust on everything is an inch thick at  _ least _ . I start cleaning things up while freely rummaging around, lacking a better thing to do. I’ve found a bedroom of my own and there’s always food in the main kitchen, so there’s worse fates, really.

After two weeks, I find the rose. It’s placed under glass, upright, and while it could be my imagination, it seems to emit a soft light. At the bottom, a great number of petals lie. I realize that the Prince’s time must be nearly up.

“Yeah, that’s it, all right,” I hear from behind me, and I start, almost knocking over the bell jar. I turn quickly. Monty is standing in the doorway, filling it up entirely, and he still has to bend over a little. “The horrid little thing.”

I look back at the rose. It definitely doesn’t look horrid. Though it is a sinister concept: a ticking clock, shaped in such beauty: “So is it true?” I dare. “What they say?”

“I don’t know what they say. Not sure you noticed, but I don’t get out a lot.”

I hover a hand over the glass, unsure if I can touch it. “You know. That, once this rose loses all its petals…”

“That I’m cursed forever? Yep. Or that’s what the old hag yelled at me, at least.”

I stare at the flower. I remember the first time I was told this story. My initial reaction?  _ That arrogant Prince deserved it. _ Right now, I… don’t know what to think.

“Whole story’s ridiculous, anyway,” Monty continues. He comes closer. I scurry aside on instinct. He throws me a glance, but says nothing of it. Instead, he taps a nail against the glass. “I was already having a bad day and suddenly a witch comes and curses me out of nowhere! A plague, that’s what they are, those witches.”

I frown. “It wasn’t really out of  _ nowhere _ , though.”

He freezes up. “What do you mean?” he asks, without turning.

“You know…” Was it this hot in here before? “She asked you for a favor, right? She just wanted a place to stay the night, and you refused. I can’t really blame-”

The beast turns toward me, suddenly towering over me in a way he wasn’t before. His voice is a low growl. “Listen to me,  _ Percy Newton _ . I don’t care what they’re saying. But that witch asked me  _ nothing _ , and I  _ refused her nothing _ . Now, I know I wasn’t the best company back when I was still human, but those are  _ lies _ .”

I’ve backed into a wall, the Prince right in front of me. From my first meeting with him, I’d convinced myself he wasn’t so bad. Right now, it’s hard to see him as anything but a monster.

Monty seems to realize that as well, for he looks startled and backs away. Then he clenches his jaw. “I’d prefer it if you wouldn’t be in here, actually,” he says, before walking away.

The following evening, I’m just passing through the dining hall on my way to the kitchen to find something to eat, when I stop dead in my tracks. The long table has been cleared of its usual plates-and-dishes litter, and instead is covered with a long, red cloth. A few bowls and trays stand neatly in the middle beside a bottle of wine, and in front of two seats a plate, cutlery and cups have been placed.

I’ve been staring for about a minute when Monty enters from the kitchen, another dish in his hands. It’s almost a comical sight: the iron tray is ridiculously small in his hands. He sees me. “Oh, Percy.” He’s standing twenty feet away from me, but his voice is naturally loud enough that I can hear him clearly. “You’re early. I wanted, um…”

I’m at a loss of what to say, so I let him stutter on for a while.

“Well, I…” He puts the tray down, and gestures around. “I was worried I… scared you, the other day, with the rose, and I wanted to make it up to you by cooking us a meal!” He then drops his arms, and squints. “I… actually can’t cook. None of this is probably edible.”

I realize I’m smiling. I walk toward the table and look around. “The bread smells great.”

“Yeah, the baker brought that earlier today.”

“Oh.”

If I’d told myself a month ago that today I’d be having an enjoyable evening dining with a monster, I’d believe I’d actually gone mad. But here I am, and it doesn’t feel half as strange as one might expect it would. The more I talk to him, the less he feels like a dangerous beast. Also, the less he feels like a Prince. It’s probably the wine I’m having, but I end up telling him so.

He thinks it’s hilarious. “You agree with my father on that part. The Prince thing, not the monster thing. He’s always said I was unsuitable for the throne.”

“Unrelated to the monster thing?”

Monty nods, chewing thoughtfully. “Ah, he was probably right. And honestly? I never even wanted the throne. I’m not exactly Kingly material, never have been, and my father liked to make sure I was aware of that. Always told me I was his greatest embarrassment. And, well, in general, I was… not so great company, back then.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Are you now?”

He roars with laughter. “All right, I walked right into that one.” He calms down. “But for real, I… wasn’t exactly nice to be around. I’m not about to claim I deserve what happened to me, but…” A hum. “Is that what the stories say, too? That I was an arrogant jerk?”

“Well…”

He bites his lip, then shoves back his plate. “Serves me right, I suppose.”

I watch him for a while. He’s lost in thought, spinning around the alcohol at the bottom of his chalice. It’s funny how human he appears to be in that moment.

“You’re right, though,” I say quietly.

“Hm?”

“You don’t deserve this.”

A corner of his mouth tugs up. “You probably just don’t know me well enough yet.”

“Challenge accepted.”

He’s got an odd expression on his face, as if he’s trying to figure me out. I realize my heart’s beating fast, though I can for the life of me not figure out why. I sit up, refill my cup - mostly just to have something on my hands - and say: “So what was your life like? Before all this?”

He seems to shake off whatever thought had him occupied. “Ah, yes. The great misadventures of Prince Henry Montague. Before I start, have you ever seen any paintings of me from before I turned into this thing? At the palace or something?”

I shake my head. “I… don’t think there are any.”

Monty falters, then regains composure. “Oh. Well. Anyway. I need you to understand that I was  _ extremely _ handsome. I had these dimples, and a pair of knock-out eyes. If you saw me like that, you’d fall in love with me right away. But anyway, those were the better days…”

After that, we don’t avoid each other as much. We always eat together, and Monty starts helping me with my grand clean-up of the castle. I recommend him books which he doesn’t read, and he tells me all about life at the royal court, about his family and how much he disliked them, about all his grand escapades and all the times he embarrassed the family name. There’s a particularly vivid one involving a ball at a neighboring kingdom, and it features him ending up naked in front of everyone.

“But you have to understand,” he stresses, “that girl was  _ extremely pretty _ .”

Some nights, I play a song to him on my fiddle.

A few months later, we get our first non-supply-delivering visitor. I’m in the library, alphabetizing books, when I hear a pair of voices approaching from the hallway. One of them is Monty.

“...can’t just use this place as your personal little library, Felicity.”

“And why not?” It’s a woman’s voice, and she sounds pretty young. The pair of them enter, and the girl - Felicity, or,  _ Princess Felicity _ , as I quickly realize - gestures around. “It’s not like you’re doing anything w-. Wait. When did this place get so clean?”

Monty sounds annoyed. “Since I cleaned it?”

She rolls her eyes at him. “That’s the most preposterous thing I’ve ever heard.” Then she spots me. “Who’s that?”

I’m climbing down a ladder, nervously trying to remember what I’ve learned about how to behave in front of a royal. Monty doesn’t count. I arrive in front of her and bow. “Your highness.”

Monty bursts out laughing. “Oh, Perce, you’re hilarious,” he says, when he’s calmed down enough to do so.

Felicity transfers the funny look she’s giving from me to him, and hits him in the side. She looks pitiful. “I used to be taller than you,” she says sadly. Then she turns to me again. “Seriously, Monty, who is-  _ Oh _ ! I remember you!”

And my heart drops to my feet, because I know  _ exactly _ what she remembers me from.

Monty’s looking between us. “You two know each other?”

“ _ Know _ is a big word,” the Princess says.

“I used to play in the royal orchestra, remember?” I try to talk myself out of this, sweating nervously.

The Princess seems to understand, though. She looks between Monty and I. “Yeah,” she says. Then she puts her hands in her sides. “I still don’t get why he’s here, though. I thought he was just sent over to play you a song.”

“I was,” I say, then I wonder if I should be saying anything at all. I add a polite bow. “My lady.”

She rolls her eyes. “Ugh, stop it. It’s bad enough being called that all day long at the palace. But seriously, you were sent over  _ months _ ago.”

“I allowed him to stay,” Monty says. “Since he can’t go back to the palace.”

The Princess has been trying and failing to have a silent conversation with me, mostly because I’m avoiding eye contact. Now, she raises her eyebrows in understanding. “Oh, so you  _ do _ know,” she tells Monty. Then, to me: “I still think it’s ridiculous how badly everyone freaked about that fit you had at the concert. Everyone is so superstitious, even some so called medical ‘professionals’ still think-”

“Fit?” Monty asks, and I think:  _ This is it _ .  _ It’s been a good few months, but it’s over now. _

Felicity turns her head a few times. “Oh. You didn’t know. Hm. Well. I’m… going to look for my book.”

She carefully walks toward the shelves.

I’m staring at the floor, heartbeat heavy in my ears. Monty’s watching me. “What did my sister mean?” he asks. There’s no accusation in his voice, just confusion, and that makes it all so much worse.

“It’s why I was sent away,” I say, and my voice doesn’t sound like my own. “I… had a fit. I have them more often, but, usually not in front of people.” I chuckle humorlessly. “The King didn’t really appreciate that. I’m not sure what would have happened to me if I stayed.”

Monty is quiet for a while. “So are you… ill?”

I shrug. “I don’t even know. It just started a few years ago, and now it just makes my life miserable every once in a while. Oh, and it convinces people I’m possessed by demons.”

“Which is absolutely nonsense,” Felicity contributes to our very private conversation from the other side of the room. “Even  _ Hippocrates _ knew it was a medical problem caused by the brain, and he lived around five hundred BC.”

I don’t know who that is, or what he thought. I just feel the weight of Monty’s gaze upon me as I await judgement.

I don’t get any. Instead, a claw lifts my chin with a gentleness I had not expected, and yellow eyes look upon me in fondness. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know,” I say truthfully. “The people that find out don’t tend to react very well.”

“Because of they think you’re possessed by demons?”

“I suppose.”

“Ha. You’re going to have to try better than that, darling. I  _ am _ a straight-up demon.”

And I can’t help it, I laugh in relief. “You just look like one,” I say, and he gives me a pat on the back that’s just a little bit too hard and I end up taking a few stumbling steps forward. He apologizes profusely.

“I’m still not used to this,” he says, and gestures at himself.

Monty’s sister stays the night and departs again in the morning, a bag filled with books. “This seems to be the only place I can still get my hands on medical books,” she says. Then, sourly: “Even if they are outdated by a century.”

Right before she leaves, I stop her. I hesitate, and Monty seems to understand the hint, for he lingers behind.

“Thank you,” I say, “for… standing up for me, at the concert.”

She shrugs. “I’m sorry it wasn’t much use.” Then, with a mocking smile, she meaningfully nods toward Monty. “And I’m sorry you got stuck with  _ him _ over it.”

“I don’t mind,” I say honestly.

She looks at me funny for a while. “Have you… played a song for him yet?”

I nod. “Couple of times.”

“Hm.”

And with that, she leaves.

Seasons go by. I feel more at home in this forgotten castle and with this cast-out Prince than I have ever felt anywhere in my life. Winter is cold and the food is scarcer, but we make it through all right and by the time the flowers start blooming again I can barely remember the life I had before this. I think Monty’s happy too, though it’s harder to tell.

In spite of it all, I know he’s running out of time, and he knows it, too. He doesn’t mind me visiting the rose anymore, and it’s down to a handful of petals.

He tries to shrug it off when I mention it. “I was doomed from the start. It’s been three years - I’m as good as used to it now.”

I know he’s lying.

Things change abruptly, one night in March. Felicity has been staying with us for a week - she comes over more and more lately. “Because the place is finally habitable,” is her excuse. “Because she wants to get out of the palace just as badly as I did,” is Monty’s explanation. “Because she enjoys spending time with us,” I suggest, but that gets me a harsh glance from both siblings.

It’s late, and I’ve entertained myself listening to Felicity and Monty exchanging jabs at the library for a while, when suddenly Monty’s towering over me.

“You fell asleep,” he says.

I decide to retreat to my room for the night.

I didn’t see someone was waiting for me, there.

They’ve jumped me and smothered my scream before I even realize what’s happening. I feel a painful stab in my neck. I try to wrestle my attacker, but they’re endlessly stronger than I am.

That’s where I am when the door opens and Monty enters.

“Percy? I hope you’re not asleep yet. You forgot your fiddle and I figured-”

The second he realizes what’s going on, he lets out a growl. My attacker jumps off me, hastily scrambling for the window, Monty going after them. I don’t see or hear what’s going on. Reality’s reduced to flashes, shorter and shorter, until it disappears entirely.

I vaguely remembering being carried, and when I look up, I see Monty, looking more frightened than I’ve ever seen him.

After that, everything’s dark.

“-can’t believe this-”

“Monty-”

“How did they even-  _ why _ would anyone-”

“Calm down, everything’s under-”

“ _ Don’t _ tell me to calm down! Someone tried to kill Percy!”

“Yeah, and they failed, thanks to the person  _ you’re yelling at right now _ .”

“...Felicity, I’m sorry, I…”

“Yeah, yeah. Shut up and let me work.”

I come by to soft sunlight caressing my face. I’m lying comfortably, and there’s something cold on my forehead. I slowly open my eyes.

I’m in Monty’s room, on his bed, with a wet piece of cloth on my forehead. Monty in question is sitting on a chair at my other side, head and arms resting on the bed, asleep. I watch him for a while, as fragments of what happened slowly come back to me.

By the time my head’s cleared up enough, I decide to wake him up. “I thought you weren’t going to let me sleep in your bed anymore.”

He starts, sitting up and blinking a few times. “Percy! Darling!” he exclaims. And then he moves forward and wraps me into a hug.

My head’s still a little sore, but it’s easy to ignore. I hug him back until I’m out of air, then gently push him back. My voice still sounds weary when I speak. “Aw, you weren’t worried, were you?”

“Like hell I wasn’t. You almost  _ died _ .” He seems reluctant to let me go, but still sits back.

I rub my head. “What happened?”

“Someone poisoned you, for God knows what reason. For heaven’s sake, Percy, I thought I lost you.” He smiles, still a little in disbelief.

I frown. “Do you know who it was?”

He shakes his head. “If only. They got away before I could get to them. But I won’t let this happen again, Percy, I  _ swear _ , even if I have to sit guard in front of your room every night-”

“Calm down.” I’m smiling, but my headache’s getting worse, and I wince when I place a hand over his.

He presses his lips together. “How are you feeling?”

“Like someone poisoned me.”

“Oh, well, thank goodness you haven’t lost your sense of humor.”

I chuckle. “Nah, I just feel… really tired.”

“Felicity said you might. Do you want to rest some more? Do you want me to get you anything?”

I shake my head, and slowly let myself sink back into my pillow. “No, it’s just… hard to keep my eyes open.”

“I’ll leave you to it, then.” He stands up. I expect him to walk away, but he stays there, rubbing his hands together, looking between me and the door. “...I won’t be far,” he assures me.

“I know,” I mumble, eyes falling shut. “Thank you.”

“...hard to imagine why anyone would want Percy dead.”

“I know! It just doesn’t make any sense.”

“And they couldn’t have possibly mistaken him for you. Unless… Wait.”

The first thing that reaches me again is voices. It takes me a while to surface, to blink open my eyes, and see Monty and Felicity at my bedside.

“Unless what?”

Felicity’s eyes shoot toward me, and I pretend to be asleep. “Maybe we shouldn’t be having this conversation here.”

“Percy’s asleep.”

“Join me in the corridor, will you?”

They stand up and leave, closing the door behind them. I hear muffled voices, but it’s impossible to make out what they’re saying. The effort wears me out, and I fall asleep again.

A week later I still feel a bit weak, but well enough that I can join Monty and Felicity in the dining room for meals. Monty still seems reluctant to leave my side, even though I assure him that I’m fine.

“Maybe we should share a room from now on,” he suggests one morning. “Just to be safe.”

“I’m trying to have breakfast, you know,” Felicity mutters over her drink.

I politely decline.

Matters escalate a little further when one afternoon Felicity returns from the village out of breath. It takes a while before she’s able to articulate what’s happening: “There’s something going on. A camp has set up in the woods, close to here. There’s a lot of armed men, and they’re planning something.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“You think these could be the same people that attacked Percy?” Monty asks.

Felicity throws up her arms. “I don’t know! I’m going back tomorrow to do some more snooping around.”

“Do  _ I _ , of all people, need to point out what an unreasonable idea that is?” Monty says, eyebrow raised.

“Well, you stand out too much,” Felicity points out. “And Percy’s not stable enough on his feet yet.”

“I’m perfectly fine,” I insist, but both Felicity and Monty shush me.

A few more days go by. I know Felicity’s spying. She stays vague about her findings, at least to me - I have a feeling she and her brother are keeping me out of something, and I’m getting tired of it. Especially because, whatever it is, it seems to weigh heavily on Monty. When I ask him, he claims everything is fine.

One night, when Felicity’s gone out again, Monty asks me to join him in the ballroom. Since we’ve tidied the place up, it looks genuinely inviting. When I arrive, he’s all dressed up, as if he’s prepared for an actual ball.

“What’s the occasion?” I ask.

He’s rubbing one shoulder awkwardly. “Well, I figured… You’ve lived in this castle for almost a year now, but you still haven’t been to a proper ball.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Doesn’t a proper ball have, I don’t know, an orchestra, or at least, more than two people invited?”

“I didn’t know you were so picky, Mr Newton,” he says, peeved, but he’s smiling. He takes a deep breath, and offers me a hand. “May I have this dance?”

It catches me so off guard that I go red entirely. “There’s no music,” is all I manage to get out.

“Can’t we pretend?”

And I stop thinking altogether. It feels like I stop  _ breathing _ altogether. I nod and take his hand. Then I stop. “I… don’t know how to dance,” I admit.

“That’s all right, darling,” he says.

What follows is the most magical evening of my life. I’m not even exactly sure what happens. We dance for what feels like eternity and a single second at the same time, alone, in a poorly lit ballroom, to no sound but the clanking of our feet on the tiles, the sound of our laughter when one of us missteps, and the beating of our hearts.

And when we finally stop, I’ve made up my mind.

“I have to tell you something,” Monty beats me to it, though something feels amiss. I’m soaring, with my head in the clouds, and I can’t stop smiling. Monty, however, looks… heartbroken.

“So do I,” I say.

He takes my hands. “I really think it’s best if I go first-”

“I love you.”

The statement catches us both off guard. I know I’m going red, but there’s no turning back now. I never consciously decided to say this. Hell, I never consciously realized I  _ felt _ this until now. But now I have to say it: “I love you. That sounds crazy, I know, and when I first arrived here, that seemed impossible to imagine. But I’ve gotten to know you and I’ve fallen in love-”

“I want you to leave.”

“-with you because…” I trail off as the meaning of his words dawns on me. “Wait, what?”

“I want you to leave.” And I’m not imagining it, he’s  _ actually _ saying it. “That’s what I wanted to tell you tonight. I don’t l-love you and I never will. So I never want to see you again.”

I feel like I’m falling, falling, falling into the abyss, sinking away into the darkest lake and instantly forget what warm light feels or looks like. All I can do is stare it him, gaping. He’s blinking fast, eyes darting aside, as he steps back and lets go of my hands.

“Monty…” I start, my voice thin as paper, but he interrupts me.

“ _ Don’t _ . Don’t say another word. Just leave.” He turns away from me, and involuntarily, I take a step toward him and lift my hand. With a roar, he leaps in my direction, towering over me at full height. “ _ I SAID LEAVE! _ ”

And for the first time in months, I see the beast behind the man.

I’m not feeling any of it. There’s a ringing noise in my ears and my vision is blurring at the edges. I turn around, and walk out of the castle.

I don’t notice the tears until the cold night wind makes them burn on my cheeks.

I’m not sure how long I’ve been standing on the path in the middle of the forest until Felicity runs toward me. She’s out of breath and looks like she’s seen a ghost.

“Percy!” she exclaims. “What-What are you doing here?”

“Monty sent me away,” I said, numb.

Felicity blinks at me. “What?”

“He sent me away.”

“Why on  _ Earth _ would he do that?”

“Because he doesn’t love me.”

I shouldn’t be telling her this. I shouldn’t be telling the Princess that I feel as though the world is ending because her brother rejected me. I could get killed over this, and rather easily, in fact, but I don’t care.

“I told him I was in love with him,” I say, and the tears start streaming again. “I shouldn’t have. I shouldn’t have and now he’s told me to-”

“Oh, good  _ heavens _ .”

Felicity’s been staring at me like I’ve lost my mind, but now she grabs me by the shoulders. “The two of you are just so impossibly  _ stupid _ , do you know that?”

I blink at her.

“Do you know why you were poisoned, a while back?”

I slowly shake my head.

“You were poisoned  _ because _ you and Monty have been falling in love with each other,” she explains impatiently, like I’m a child who doesn’t understand that one and one add up to two. “Someone has been trying to prevent Monty from turning human again. Which is why they came after  _ you _ . Because you can  _ make him turn human again _ .”

When I look at her, empty, she sighs deeply. “When’s the last time you played a song to him?”

“A… few weeks back, at least.”

“I can’t believe this.”

“But…” It’s not processing. “If he loves me, then why did he say he didn’t?”

“So you would go away.” When it still doesn’t at up, she articulates slowly: “He knows they’re coming for him. He’s trying to protect you.”

And then it all makes sense.

“Oh, my God,” I whisper. “I left him on his own.”

“ _ Exactly _ .” Felicity grabs me by the sleeve and drags me back from the direction whence I came. “And that angry mob that’s been camping out in the woods for a week? They’ve decided to attack tonight.”

I can’t think straight while Felicity guides me back to the palace. After a minute, we start running, my heart in rhythm with my footsteps. The only thought that goes through my head is  _ oh my god I left him on his own I should’ve known better I never should’ve believed him how could I have been so stupid _ -

We see the fire from a distance. It’s burning bright, a scar in the night and the sight makes my heart stop. On the roof, we see silhouettes - lots of men, armed, fighting one particularly large silhouette, whose roars I can hear all the way until here.

We slip in through the gardens, avoiding the few men on lookout, and then run through the chambers.  _ It’s not my fault this castle is so damn big _ , echoes through my head. When we pass by the ballroom, Felicity suddenly stops and points. “Percy! Your violin!”

I’m about to argue that’s hardly important right now, but she interrupts me: “You’ll need it to play for Monty!”

I grab it, and we continue running. I’m already wondering how the hell we’re going to get up on the roof, but that problem is solved when we hear a mighty  _ crash! _ followed by a booming cry. We look at each other.  _ Monty _ , we’re both thinking.

By the time we arrive, it’s crowded with armed men. The first thing I see is the bell jar with the rose, down to a single petal, lit by a moonbeam falling in through the roof. Then I see the form struggling in front of it, surrounded by at least fifteen people who’ve tied him down.

“Monty!” I yell, but Felicity pulls me back and clasps a hand in front of my mouth. Thankfully, no one heard me through the ruckus. We hide behind the doorframe and watch the scene in horror.

Monty is still struggling and failing to break free. The men have started poking at him with swords and spears to rile him up, and it makes my blood boil. I clench my teeth with the effort it takes not to run in there right now.

The men’s lively victorious chatter silences when someone new enters the room. They step aside respectfully, and for a moment I can only make out the footsteps before the person walks into view. I barely even recognize him without the dozen layers and without the crown, outside the setting of the palace. Beside me, Felicity gasps, her fingers digging into my arm.

Monty has stopped struggling and spots the new arrival.

“... _ Father _ ?” he manages, in shock.

“Good evening, Henry,” the King says, voice cold.

A silence falls over the room, only interrupted by Monty’s heavy breaths and stuttering. “But-  _ You? _ You did this?  _ Why?  _ Why would you-?”

“For the same reason as I had you cursed in the first place,” King Henri says.

I almost faint.

Monty’s struggling for words, still tied down and with a dozen or so sharp objects pointed at him. “I-I don’t understand. You didn’t- It was that  _ witch _ , she-”

“And on whose orders do you think that witch was working?” his father cuts him off, annoyed. “The curse was supposed to  _ kill _ you, not… any of this melodrama. But it got you out of the way well enough.”

“Out of the way?”

“I can’t have such an embarrassment of a son become the new King, Henry. You have to understand. I was starting to fear I had no other choice, until Adrian was born. That left me with one thing to do: getting rid of you in a way that could not be traced back to me.”

Monty lapses into a stunned silence. “I… I don’t understand, I-”

“The witch never should’ve let you live, and even now the curse should never have had the slightest  _ chance _ of being broken. But then I start to hear rumors of a  _ musician _ spending a significant amount of time at this castle.”

Felicity clasps her hands in front of her mouth, skin ash grey.

“I first tried to have the boy taken care of subtly, but the poisoning failed. So you’ve left me no choice.”

He walks toward the rose.

“N-no,  _ don’t _ ,” Monty still begs, voice ragged and raw and filled with tears. “ _ Please _ .”

With a single swipe, the King shoves the bell jar off its stand. The glass breaks on the floor, rose rolling aside.

Henri Montague slowly walks toward his son. “You could’ve waited out the curse to take full effect,” he says, disinterested. “I could’ve left you here to rot for the rest of your days. But now you’ve forced me to do this intervention and reveal my actions. So I really have no choice but to kill you.”

Monty starts sobbing, a wounded, inhumane sound. “ _ Please _ ,” is the only thing I can still make out.

And I stop thinking and do the only thing that makes sense. I leap out of my hiding spot, and with everything I have in me, I hit Henri Montague in the head with my fiddle case.

I get one look of disbelief before he goes down. I have the element of surprise on my side, because I can still say: “Hey, Monty, I forgot my fiddle”, before the soldiers come in an uproar and I have every piece of metal in the room pointed at me.

“No! Stay away from him!” And now his captors’ attention is wholly on me, Monty manages to escape and jump in front of me to fight off everyone coming at us. From here, I can tell that he’s hurt pretty badly, but he poses himself at a shield in front of me and throws attacker after attacker into a wall. In the corner of my eye, I see Felicity running for the other side of the room, then looking on the floor. She finds it, then holds an object in the air, carefully cradling it with both her hands.  _ The last petal is still attached _ , her lips form, and in the middle of the fight, I start taking out my fiddle. I’m immediately attacked and need to use the instrument to defend myself. A sword hacks into its side, and when the owner pulls it back, the fiddle is sent flying across the room. Before I can worry about that, I see that in the back, the King has stood back up, pulled out his weapon and steadily aimes at Monty.

I jump in front of him the second he pulls the trigger.

The whole world comes to a stop. All the noise fades away as Monty catches me. I can see him shouting when he realizes what’s happened. I can see Henri Montague Senior, barrel smoking, as he lowers the gun. Then Felicity’s running toward us, yelling something, and when her father sees her he commands everyone to cease the attack. All of this happens while I’m slowly put down on the floor by gentle arms, Monty’s horrified face over me soon joined by Felicity’s. Both of them are crying and yelling at their father, Felicity’s hands going to my chest. I don’t realize I’m bleeding until I see the red on her hands.

“I think I’ve been shot,” I say, dazed.

I can’t hear what anyone’s saying and my vision is rapidly blurring. My mind is holding on to a single image: that of Felicity holding the rose with a single petal. I lift a trembling hand towards Monty’s face, and he comes to cradle it with his own. Then I start singing.

Both of them cease their attempts to save my life, stunned. Then Monty realizes what I’m doing, and suddenly I can hear what he’s saying again, albeit distantly. “ _ No, Percy, no… _ ” He’s shakes his head, tears falling onto my face. “ _ It’s not worth it without you _ .”

But I carry on, as long as I have breath in my lungs and as long as my heart hasn’t given out yet. I sing a song for a man that I love with all my heart, whose happiness I value so much more than my own, I gift a song to break a curse with my dying breath.

As the final note hangs shakily in the air, Monty’s caressing my face and his mouth is forming inaudible words. I blink slowly, vision fading.

“ _ I’d rather be a beast for the rest of my life if that would mean I could spend it with you _ ,” he whispers.

From my peripheral, I see a glowing, pink light. I pay no mind to it, since I know I’ll be dead soon anyway, but Felicity looks at it, and then she hits Monty in the arm to make him look as well. I try to let myself slip away, but the light is so bright it chases away the darkness. Then suddenly it’s coming from inside of me, from where I’ve been shot, or maybe from my heart, and I reach out to Monty, and then suddenly it’s everywhere and I’m blinded by it.

I feel as though I’m being lifted in the air, and I’m still holding Monty’s claws - except they’re not claws anymore, they’re shifting smaller and I cling on tight. Though I can’t see a thing, I reach out for him, and he reciprocates my embrace.

The light decreases in intensity, and I suddenly feel the ground under my feet again. I’m still holding Monty, and I don’t realize I’ve my eyes closed until I blink them open. I feel no more pain, just him in my arms except that he fits there now and that suddenly his head only reaches my chin. I slowly move back, hands on his shoulders, and end up face to face with the most beautiful man in the entire world.

“Monty,” I say breathlessly. He’s still looking at me in concern, hand coming to cradle my cheek, when he realizes what’s different about himself. He holds his hand in front of his face, gaping at it.

I take a step back, my hands still on his shoulder, and look him up and down. “You’re…” I trail off. “You’re  _ shorter than me _ ?”

His amazed expression turns insulted. “Hey!”

I laugh, then I wrap him in my arms again, burying my face in his neck.

“But I… I don’t understand!” He moves back, though we’re still holding each other. “You were  _ shot _ !”

“Monty,” Felicity says slowly, “what were the witch’ words?”

“If someone could truly,  _ truly _ love me,” he starts breathlessly, not taking his eyes off me, “and they would gift me a song after a selfless act, I would return to normal and a life would be saved.”

“No one said that was going to be your life.” Felicity’s crossed her arms, looking pleased with herself.

“And you sent me away,” I say. “You chose to give up your chance of becoming human again to protect me. That was the selfless act.”

I’m smiling and I feel like I’ll never stop, and so is Monty, and then the two of us are laughing and I can’t help myself, I kiss him.

After barely a second, a voice sounds from the other side of the room. “ _ Enough _ .” We look up, startled. The King looks monstrous with anger. “Kill them. All of them.”

We stumble back as weapons are pointed at us. “No, wait-” Felicity still tries. I hug Monty close to me, grabbing Felicity with my other arm-

The pink light, which had remained dormant but present, suddenly flares up again. It’s coming from the rose, rising up from the debris, a single petal clutching to it. It takes Monty’s father a while to turn toward it. He’s lifted in the air, just like Monty and I were, the light swirling around him as he screams. It turns blinding and I shield my eyes. When the light dims, the King is gone - and a horrifying monster stands where he stood.

All of us are gaping, the King most of all, as he realizes what’s happened to him. “No,” he breathes. “ _ No! _ What sorcery is this?”

“That’s the thing about messing around with magic,” Monty says, still in my arms. “You never know when it’s going to backfire.”

Henri Montague Senior points a clawed finger at us. “Seize them!”

The soldiers remain immobile, looking at each other in dilemma. A few flinch back and raise their weapons when the beast yells at them: “What are you waiting for?”

“You see,” Monty starts confidently. “They’re a little confused. Three years ago, I was turned into a beast and for that you deemed ‘unfit to rule’. And now here you are…”

More weapons are being turned his way. “You can’t do this,” he gnarls, bloodshot eyes bulging out.

“I can, though,” Monty says. “Because if you’re not around to rule, guess who’s next in line to become King?” He gestures at himself.

“No.  _ No _ .  _ NO! _ ”

“So I have a proposition for you. You make sure I never hear or see you ever again, and I’ll go back home and tell everyone you died a heroic death. We’ll have a couple of days of national mourning.  _ Or _ I could go back and tell everyone the former King had his son cursed and tried to kill him.”

“They wouldn’t believe you.”

“Wouldn’t they?”

A long silence falls, wherein father and son stare each other down.

“But look at it on the bright side,” Monty still continues. “Maybe someday someone will love you for who you are and you might still turn back.”

At that exact moment, the final petal detaches itself from the rose, slowly falling down. We all follow it with our eyes.

“Oh, nevermind then, I guess.” Then his gaze turns hard. “Now  _ get out of my castle _ .”

I’ve spent most of the morning dozing off, rocked by the horse-pulled carriage and watching the landscapes slowly pass by. I’ve got my head resting on Monty’s shoulder, his hands -  _ hands _ \- playing with my hair, and I feel safe to give in to the fatigue. 

The past night feels like a dream. All the flashes and sounds imprinted in my brain feel like fiction. Yet here we are, a handful of outcasts on our way back to the royal palace, and I’m in the arms of the love of my life, who is human again.

Maybe the past year has been a dream entirely. It doesn’t feel very important to know.

“Just to be clear,” Felicity finally breaks the silence. “You weren’t  _ actually _ planning on becoming King, were you, Monty?”

Monty shrugs, my head following the motion. “I mean, I rather wouldn’t,” he says. I’m still getting used to the way his voice sounds now: soft, small when he wants it too, with just that little edge of confidence.

“I’m glad we’re all on the same page, then,” Felicity says. “You would make a terrible King.”

Monty scoffs. “I think I would make a great King! Wouldn’t I, Percy?”

I hum, neither confirming or denying, and it gets me a hair ruffle. “Great help you are,” Monty says with a smile. Then he turns serious. “I think it’s best if we leave it up to Mother,” he tells Felicity. “She’ll still be the Queen for the foreseeable future, and then, maybe Adrian will take over.” 

Felicity has been fiddling with a loose thread on her dress. “Yeah. We’ll see.”

A new silence falls over us. It’s halfway morning, and I can’t remember when I did this way in the opposite direction, on foot, thinking my life was over.

My chin is lifted, and my eyes are met with a pair of fond-looking blue ones. “If I would ever become King, though, I’d like to have you at my side, darling.”

I scoff. “Another reason for me to hope that’s never happening.”

“ _ What? _ ” He feigns insult. “Why? Do you think people won’t be okay with it? I mean, they probably won’t, but also, I was a monster for the past three years and if they’re still okay with me becoming King they won’t have an issue with that, either.”

I shake my head at him in charmed disbelief. “Mostly because I wouldn’t want to be ruling anything, but yeah, that would also be a problem.”

“If Monty becomes King, you two being married would be the  _ least _ of everyone’s problems,” Felicity still helpfully adds.

“Besides, I think you skipped over the actually proposing part.”

Monty sits up, far too enthusiastically. “Would you like me to propose to you, darling? Because I will. Right now-”

I finally sit back up myself. “Easy,” I laugh. “Not right now. I thought you were going to die last night. I won’t be able to give a well considered answer.”

Monty pouts, and I’m caught off-guard by how adorable he is. “You  _ actually _ almost died last night. For the  _ second time _ .” Then he shrugs. “But you’re probably right. Guess you have something to look forward to.” He winks.

“So what  _ are _ you two planning on doing next?” Felicity asks.

“Make out extensively as soon as you leave?” Monty innocently suggests.

It gets him an eye roll. “You know what I mean.”

“I don’t know,” I say truthfully.

“We could go live at the palace again,” Monty says. “Or at our own castle. Even though it will need some repairs. Or we could just run away altogether.” He smiles a knock-out grin at me. “The choice is yours, darling.”

I take him in my arms again. I never,  _ ever _ want to let go. And whatever future allows us to be together - it’s good enough for me. Whether that is a life at the palace or a cabin in the woods (though I must admit the latter sounds more tempting)... I don’t mind.

“One more question,” Monty says. “How do we feel about roses? Because it’s a traditional flower for weddings-”

I sigh, unable to hide my amusement. “Did you just skip all over the proposing part again?”

“It’s an important question!”

I cradle his face in my hands, touching my nose to his. “Whatever you want, darling.”

I kiss him.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Dead Head Walking](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22958593) by [pinstripedJackalope](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinstripedJackalope/pseuds/pinstripedJackalope)




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